Hi there! I am REALLY sorry about the spacing’s, I have no idea what is going on with it and I don’t know how to change it! Apologies for any inconvenience. So…YEAH! Other than that I really hope you enjoy my book :D!!!!!
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The shackles were tight around the girl’s wrists and ankles. Her feet were covered in blood. Her eyes felt swollen and puffy and her face felt sticky from crying. She could hear her mother’s sobs beside her. They were all in a line; the people from her village. The bad man was walking along the line, picking out people random and putting them into groups. She looked down at the ground as the man drew nearer. Then suddenly there were a black pair of boots, so shiny she could see her reflection. Except she didn’t recognise herself, all she saw was a dirty, red eyed scared looking girl. Fingers tightened around her jaw and yanked her head upwards so she was sitting up on her knees. The bad man examined her face then muttered something over his shoulder then let go of her face. She fell onto her hands and knees. Two pairs of hands grabbed her under the arms and howled her up and started to drag her towards a group of equally looking frightened girls. Someone grabbed her foot, the two men lost their grip and she plummeted to the ground. Her mother was gripping the girls ankle. “No please,” she sobbed “Not Furaha , not my Furaha! Please….please…” Furaha turned as the bad man walked up to her mother. Her mother looked at the man, tears streaming down her face, hopeless, helpless. He raised his sword and brought it down, hitting her mother’s head with the hilt. Her mother dropped to the ground but still griped Furaha’s ankle. “Mamma” Furaha whispered, taking her mother’s cold, shaky hand in hers. Blood poured from her head. Her mother opened her mouth to speak but before she could the bad man, again raised his sword and again brought it down, but this time not hitting her with the hilt but piercing her heart with the blade. Robbing her of her last words.
“ Mamma!” Furaha screamed “No please. No mamma!” Her mother’s head sank, her eyes closed and her grip on Furaha’s hand loosened. Now it was only Furaha hanging on. She looked at the body lying, motionless on the ground. She felt the coolness of her mother’s hand. She remembered cuddling up into her mother by the fire, when she was scared. She remembered her mother singing to her at night when she couldn’t sleep. She remembered her mothers and fathers laughter pouring out from the kitchen. Then she looked at this body. This body to which were the centre of these memories. A single tear rolled down her cheek. She lay down next to her mother and cried. “Anyone else wanna mess with me?” she heard the bad man scream to the shocked, startled row of prey he had collected.
Suddenly some feeling Furaha had never come across built up inside her. A mix between anger, guilt, rage, hatred, sadness, all compacted into one feeling. Furaha screamed and spun around kicking the bad man’s feet from under him. He toppled to the ground. Furaha jumped up. She was soaked in her mother’s blood; she didn’t care. Other men ran up to her she threw a punch a kick, of course there were too many, of course they’d outnumbered her, but she kept on fight, for her mother. Then a sharp pain went through her head and she toppled to the ground. Then suddenly, darkness. Nothing.
